


and what chance have we got when you missed every shot (for me)

by amaltheaz



Series: war is your wife (and i am your mistress) [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergent, F/F, idk - Freeform, set after Mount Weather, sort of smutty????
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-15 08:55:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10553572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amaltheaz/pseuds/amaltheaz
Summary: "Heda’s will was hard and unyielding as she sounded the horn for her army to leave, protectively surrounding the former prisoners as they made their journey back to camp. But it was Lexa’s heart, soft, passionate and yearning, that drove her feet to run back to the mountain, fighting and killing Mountain Men in her quest to find Clarke."Set after events of Mount Weather and after Clarke leaves Camp Jaha,





	

The sun was nearly setting when Clarke stumbled in on the nearly empty camp site. Tendrils of thick, gray smoke from extinguished campfire swirled in the air as she walked by, trampling over footprints long left behind. Simmering anger that had been her companion since she left Camp Jaha flared at the sight of the massive tent that stood in front of her, the long walk only intensifying it. Clarke tried to breathe slow and steady but the longer she did so, the harder her heart began to beat in her chest. She felt sick at the rage that flared white hot inside her.

She absentmindedly wondered where the guards were as she stomped noisily inside the tent. Blue eyes slowly darted around the massive empty space, looking around for the owner of the tent. They landed on the table in the far corner, little figurines standing proudly in their place, a map and various other scrolls still unfurled and draped over it. She wandered over to the table, her fingers tracing lazily over the map. Memories flashed of dark green eyes nakedly coveting her lips, of a hand gentle on the back of her neck guiding her to impossibly soft lips, of time slowing down and the wild and strange earth standing still. It made her pause, made her breath stutter in fury, made her fingers curl into her palms until her hands folded into angry fists by her side.

A distant splashing sound made her turn and she followed it to the next room, dropping her pack in the entryway when she found the person she had been looking for since she started walking. “Cleansing yourself off your sins?”

Lexa continued her movements, not at all startled by the blonde’s sudden presence. She was fortunately still dressed, preparing for a bath when she heard Clarke’s familiar steps entering the tent. Clarke walked in the same way the vessel she came in hurtled itself to the ground, loud and bold. Lexa had tried to teach her to walk soft, to tread the earth quietly like a gentle caress and leave no prints behind. But Clarke continued as she did, trampling over twigs and branches, pressing her boot-clad feet into the dirt. It was as if she wanted the ground to know she was there, to _know_ that she had been there, and she didn’t ever want it to forget her.

She had sent everybody else packing, to accompany the former Mount Weather prisoners home if that was where they wished to be, or to Polis where she will be going as well. Her guards were far away enough to lend them some privacy for an hour or two. The bath-tub was nearly full, scalding hot the way Lexa liked it, with lines of aromatic oils and petals floating lazily over the water. The dark red blood that coated her face and her neck had been cleaned off, along with the smudged war paint though the blonde could still see specks of red and black that littered Lexa’s face, as if she had only done a cursory wipe. Her dark green eyes still stood out as brilliantly as they did before.

“Hello Clarke.”

Her blue eyes followed Lexa as she pushed off from the tub and walked closer, passed by her until she was standing by the table. Clarke observed her closely and she wondered if Lexa was trying to distract herself from something as the Commander’s finger traced mindlessly over the little wooden figurines on the desk.

“Why did you do it?”

“Do what?”

Clarke rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Don’t play clueless, Lexa. We _killed_ them all,” she reminded her as she walked to stand just a few inches away from the brunette.

The Commander turned to face her, head tilting with a slightly confused frown on her infuriatingly stunning face. “Why do you say ‘we’ when I was the one that pulled that lever? You didn’t pull that lever, Clarke.”

The blonde shook her head. “We could have found another way,” she tried to argue, even though she knew it was pointless. That what was done, was done. They couldn’t go back to change the events of what happened, no matter how much she wanted to do so. But that didn’t mean Clarke couldn’t stop thinking about it, couldn’t stop thinking that there could have been another option where _nobody_ had to die.

Lexa stood rigid as ever before her, her hands held tight behind her back. “There was no time. It came down to a choice between their people or yours, Clarke.”

“Just like it came down to a choice between yours and mine?”

“If you came here looking for an apology for saving more of my people from dying, you’re not going to get it, Clarke.”

“Are you _serious_?” Clarke’s fingers curled into her palms, nails pressing tight and painful into the flesh as they formed into fists, disbelief curling angrily in the pit of her stomach.

“I do not joke when it comes to my duty to protect my people.”

Clarke scoffed. “So the amazing _Heda_ fulfilled her duty and saved her people from further bloodshed. Why did you come back at all then?”

Their eyes met for a brief moment before Lexa turned away, her eyes avoiding the blonde’s stare. “Why do you ask me questions to which you already know the answer, Clarke?”

Clarke took a step forward. “Tell me why you did it.”

“Clarke-”

Another step. “Tell me why you decided to fight beside us.”

“Clarke, I don’t-”

“Tell me-” Clarke paused, struggling with her next words as the next step brought her toe to toe with Lexa, barely an inch of space between their bodies. “Tell me why you pulled that lever.”

_Tell me why you came back for me._

The Commander’s set shoulders were lowering while her chest began to heave as she breathed warm and heavy, and Clarke could feel it blanketing her face. There was no way to avoid the softness so piercingly evident in Lexa’s green eyes as she gazed at her, the black of her pupils dilating the closer Clarke got to her. The anger bubbled further in the pit of her stomach when she felt her heart began to race. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” Lexa whispered so quietly that it nearly broke her. She felt the burn of the brunette’s stare that had been focused on her trembling lips, returning to her dark blue eyes. And it fueled her. She didn’t want Lexa looking at her like this, like Clarke was something clean and pure, like Clarke was something to be _revered_. It left her dizzy and unsure and she felt so absolutely undeserving of it, even more so that it was coming from _Lexa_.

“Just _stop_.”

“Clarke, I-”

“Shut, _up_ ,” she snapped, a warning, a threat in her steely blue eyes as she grabbed a tight hold onto the collar of Lexa’s shirt and pushed her against the table. The little wooden figurines wobbled noisily on the table behind the brunette. “Shut up,” Clarke muttered this time, a desperate crack in her voice as she pushed Lexa once again, her fists folding tighter around the rough material of the Commander’s shirt.

Her blue eyes were dark and wild as they tried to look anywhere else but into those forest green eyes that were wide and filled with understanding; eyes filled with so much _knowing_. But Lexa was a magnet, breathing heavily with her hands braced so steadily on the table behind her, and Clarke felt herself being pulled in until their lips crashed together. Desperate howling screams of pain that thundered loud and clear in her head, screams that had been haunting her since they left the mountain, faded to the background, became static noise as soft lips moved over hers.

Clarke nearly melted at the hands that landed tender on her hips and she abruptly pushed Lexa off her, watching her nearly stumble back before she regained her balance. Breathing heavily as their eyes locked in a heated gaze before Clarke brought her hands down to Lexa’s waist, roughly turning her around so that her back was facing her and the blonde felt an immediate sense of relief, the tightness in her chest loosening now that Lexa’s green eyes weren’t on her anymore.

“Clarke.”

“I told you to shut up, _Commander_ ,” she growled. Her hand went up to the back of Lexa’s neck, watching in a daze as she pushed Lexa down until she was bent slightly over the table, her toned arms holding her up.

She didn’t allow herself to think about the fact that Lexa so willingly let her do that, that Lexa heeded to her unspoken demand and had fallen silent, that Lexa _allowed_ Clarke to handle her like this when she could so very easily get out of this hold without breaking a sweat. Clarke immediately rolled her hips against Lexa’s ass, closing her eyes to the needy whimper that fell eagerly out of the brunette’s lips.

They heard the soft pitter-patter of rain starting outside the tent as Clarke hastily undid the various buckles and straps holding Lexa’s clothes on her. Clarke’s hands brazenly slipped under Lexa’s shirt, roughly grabbing her pert breasts, still covered by bindings. She gave them an angry squeeze, Lexa’s surprised moans washing over her. The strong body in her arms stiffened and wilted all at the same time and Clarke wondered then when the last time that Lexa had been touched like this. Was Costia the last person to ever have touched Lexa so intimately or had Lexa ever invited others into her bed?

The blonde pulled Lexa’s shirt up, pulled it along with the bindings up over her breasts. Clarke pressed herself against Lexa, feeling her warmth and her breasts heavy in her hands. She then tugged down the material of Lexa’s shirt, to expose a shoulder scarred with kill marks and Clarke sunk her teeth into the flesh and Lexa arched into her as her fingers went to pull and pinch at hard, sensitive nipples.

Lexa shivered at the cool air that surrounded them despite the heat that came from the body behind her. She hadn’t been surprised when Clarke walked in her tent earlier. She had expected it, knowing that despite her returning to help, the blonde’s anger over her betrayal would linger like a second skin. She knew that Clarke would eventually seek her out, searching for answers. She anticipated it. She just hadn’t expected it to be this soon.

She had no regrets for taking the deal. It had been the logical choice, the _right_ choice for her people. Despite her growing feelings for the blonde, she could not and would never risk their many lives just to appease the call of her heart. Heda’s will was hard and unyielding as she sounded the horn for her army to leave, protectively surrounding the former prisoners as they made their journey back to camp. But it was Lexa’s heart, soft, passionate and yearning, that drove her feet to run back to the mountain, fighting and killing Mountain Men in her quest to find Clarke.

The _Skaikru_ had been shocked upon her return and unsurprisingly hostile. But she continued to fight alongside them until they eventually got to the control room. Her heart pounded as she watched Clarke angrily taking charge, the way she spoke to Cage Wallace. It broke at the devastated look in blue eyes when Clarke shot Dante Wallace. In an odd rational way, Lexa could relate to the older man, both leaders carrying the weight of burden, only doing what they thought was best, no matter the personal cost. But Clarke had always been different, always trying to look for another solution. It was a part of her that though Lexa sometimes disagreed with, she still respected highly.  And Lexa also knew that it was only when there was nothing left, that Clarke would make the most difficult decisions required of her. Lexa had seen this when the blonde took it upon herself to kill the boy she loved.

Perhaps that was why, without giving it a second thought, Lexa stepped forward and took the lever with both hands. She had seen Clarke reaching for it, firm and resolute, but she just couldn’t let her do it. Clarke had been wearing Death like a cloak and Lexa couldn’t bear the thought of there being more blood on her hands. But Lexa, she already had blood of so many others all over her skin and what was more to her? And so she gladly volunteered to be Death’s right hand as she pulled the lever following Clarke’s nod.

Lexa cried out at the sting of sharp teeth biting down on her shoulder. She gritted her teeth and grunted through the pain. The throbbing between her thighs pulsed harder at the nails digging into her, dragging painfully over her skin. She wondered if Clarke hoped to scar her, to make her bleed. She thought of Clarke seeing the darkness of her blood and what she would think of it. If only Clarke knew that if this was all that she had wanted of her, Lexa would have gladly bled for her. But she knew it wasn’t. She knew despite Clarke’s current mindless treatment of her body, she wasn’t seeking intimacy but something else altogether. Redemption. Absolution. Lexa wasn’t completely sure.

Because in this moment, she wasn’t Heda, she wasn’t Commander of the Blood, the ruthless leader that united the Twelve Clans. In this moment, she was only Lexa, the girl who loved and lost her childhood sweetheart, the girl who long buried her heart deep underneath Heda’s armor, the girl from the ground who somehow found sanctuary in a girl who fell from the sky. And so she offered her body freely to this same girl, knowing that though she wouldn’t find what she was looking for, that she would at least find a short moment of relief. If this was all that Lexa could give to Clarke, then she would give all that she could. Her breath hitched when Clarke slipped her hand under her pants, searching for the heat between her thighs. If the blonde could see her face right now, she would see the fierce blush coloring her cheeks; she would see Lexa biting down on her lip failing to stifle the groan that rumbled deep in her chest. She was soaking and there was no way to hide that when Clarke cupped her swollen cunt.

Clarke hadn’t expected the wetness that greeted her fingers and she could barely concentrate as she pressed rough circles on Lexa’s clit. The brunette shook and trembled in her arms as she continued to stroke, to slide her fingers over wet folds and Clarke couldn’t handle it. She couldn’t handle the way that Lexa was just _letting_ her do this to her and it infuriated her. She couldn’t deal with Lexa’s delicate whines and her soft moans that made her heart wrench. Lexa did absolutely nothing to stop her and the fact that she seemed to want it made Clarke bite harder into the softness of her skin, made her hips buck so hard against Lexa that it made the girl nearly lose her balance if it hadn’t been for her arms holding her up.

“Tell me you want this,” she spat out, her fingers continuing their torturous run over Lexa’s cunt. When Lexa didn’t answer her, Clarke pulled her braided hair, smirking darkly at Lexa’s whimper. “ _Tell me_ , Lexa,” she insisted further, pulling harder until Lexa’s hair eventually came loose.

Lexa hissed at the tugging of her braids just as Clarke wrenched her hand out of her pants, to hook her fingers over the waistband and tug it down to rest just under her ass. Tight as they were, they remained there, bunched around her hips and thighs while her bottom was shamelessly displayed to the girl behind her. Her breath caught at the rough and warm palm thoughtlessly cupping one cheek and she knew from the wetness that it was the hand that Clarke used on her pussy.

“I’m pretty sure that what you found between my legs told you just how much I want this, Clarke,” she uttered breathlessly.

At her words, Clarke’s hand slithered once more to between her thighs and Lexa was less than prepared when that very hand slapped her pussy without warning. It was only the lightest of slaps as there was little room for Clarke’s hand to move but still Lexa’s eyes snapped open and her hips bucked, searching for more until she heard the blonde muttering and telling her to stop moving. And so Lexa froze in her place, her hands on the table to keep her up, her hair and her clothes in complete disarray with only her breasts and her ass on show for Clarke Griffin. And so Lexa took slow, deep breaths and she waited. She waited patiently as she allowed Clarke to pull up her shirt, throwing it to the side. She continued to wait.

“Put your hands behind your back.”

“Wha- what?”

“I _want_ , your hands behind your back and I want _you_ , to keep them there. The way you do every time you and I talk.”

Clarke watched as the brunette hesitantly placed her hands behind her back, watching as long fingers slowly laced together. She watched as Lexa’s body gradually straightened itself up, her shoulders setting back and her chin lifting in that regal, arrogant fashion. Clarke wondered if Lexa realized that she was even doing it at all. It was almost incredibly fascinating to see the great Commander coming to life right in front of her eyes.

“Keep them there,” she instructed and Clarke waited a beat, another and another and another until she was sure that Lexa wasn’t going to move.

But Lexa stayed as she was, waiting quietly to seemingly see what Clarke was going to do. She then placed her hand on Lexa’s upper back, sliding it up to Lexa’s neck, slowly guiding her to bend forward. Where Clarke once again expected resistance, she found none when Lexa’s forehead slowly landed on the table. The blonde breathed in sharply at the image in front of her.

Her blue eyes roamed distractedly over the muscled back that was exposed to her, following the long, intricate tattoo that covered it. Her fingers traced the ink, journeying down the toned skin, blemished with healed wounds of varying lengths and sizes. Tried as she might, Clarke was unable to contain the sigh flowing quietly out of her lips when her fingers followed the tattoo down Lexa’s back. She watched Lexa breathe deeply, waiting for her next move and for just one weak moment, Clarke allowed herself to fall, to bend and she pressed herself into Lexa’s firm body. Her hands fell to the brunette’s hips and the blonde inhaled the scent of fire and of the forest, committing it all to memory. She swallowed thickly at the phantom taste of blood and sweat, and she dug her fingers into the tender flesh of Lexa’s thighs.

“Don’t come looking for me.”

The heat on her back was gone, sudden, before she could even catch a breath, before a coherent thought could enter her mind and she felt an abrupt chill slither over her exposed flesh. Ignoring the throbbing between her legs, Lexa hastily pulled on everything she could to cover herself after pushing herself off the table.

“Clarke?” she called out breathlessly, soft and hesitant.

Even though she had heard the hurried steps walking away from her, the flap of her tents being forcefully pushed away, the slosh of boots trampling muddy earth outside her tent. She looked around her tent, walking around as she did so, barely caring for her half-dressed state when she stepped out and her skin erupted with goosebumps and her nipples hardened from the surrounding cold blowing winds. The sky was pitch dark and the rain fell heavy on her face; the only sounds were of her harsh breathing, the rustling evening forest and her racing heartbeat. There was no denying it anymore.

Clarke was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @maybewritingthings


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